REV: REV Warriors Book 1

by T. R. Harris

  He paused to look at Zac before returning to the datapad.

  “The Human body is an amazing thing, and will do all it can to protect itself. That’s why it retains a certain amount of residual NT-4. Yes, gentlemen, we did not design the drug to remain in the body in residual amounts. This is something the body does on its own. Every person who takes NT-4 remains operating at an elevated level, even when not activated. This increases certain bodily functions, which for a normal person, would result in either an embolism, cardiac arrest or other critical malady. The only thing keeping a REV’s body from burning up is the residual amount of NT-4 in the system.

  “And that is why NT-4 doesn’t make the REV super Human. What it does is allow the body to survive the cascading effects, either over the short-term for an activated REV, or longer while in a passive state.

  “Now let me tell you about Sergeant Murphy.”

  He flipped the page on the screen and Zac was surprised to see a picture from his enlistment profile. He hadn’t seen it for a long time, and the marked difference in the shape of his face was startling. Damn, I was a gangly-looking kid.

  “A passive REV has an average residual NT-4 in his system of approximately seven percent. This varies between individuals, based upon their time in the system and number of activations they’ve undergone. Because of his record-setting longevity, Zac carries a residual amount of ten-point-two percent.” He held up his hand to head off any exclamations from the room, although no one seemed about to burst forth with questions. Instead, they appeared anxious for Cross to get to the point.

  The doctor continued: “This is a normal level for him, and doesn’t mean he’s continually on the verge of spontaneously cascading. This is just the amount of NT-4 his body has determined it needs to survive his increased physiological activity.”

  Cross smiled and looked around the room. “However, it does mean our Sergeant Murphy is about forty percent stronger than your average REV, with senses proportionally more acute, even when not activated. So watch what you say around him gentlemen; he has hearing more sensitive than a dog’s.”

  No one in the room was in the mood for Cross’s lecture hall humor, especially not Zac. The scientist was taking far too long getting to the point.

  When no one even smiled, Cross pursed his lips and continued in earnest. “During the Run in question, Sergeant Murphy also exhibited behavior never before seen in a REV. When he pretended to be Twilighted, he showed forethought, planning and conscious execution of the plan, brought about by a rational assessment of the battle taking place. This placed him within the action and consciously aware of it. Not only that, but he remained unmoving on the ground for seventeen seconds. Gentlemen, imagine drinking a hundred cups of coffee and then being asked to lie on the floor, perfectly still. You couldn’t do it, not even for five seconds. Now multiply that by a hundred, and you have the electric energy coursing through an activated REV. Zac did just that. And then he stood up and resumed the fight.

  “Needless to say, we had a lot of additional questions about our super REV after that. But it was when he was brought back aboard the Olympus—and Dr. Patel and his staff had trouble bring the NT-4 levels down in his system—that I began to suspect there was something inhibiting the effectiveness of the diluting drugs, and it wasn’t my NT-4.”

  “A contaminant of some kind?” Arnie asked. “We suspected that, too, but couldn’t isolate anything abnormal.”

  “That’s because you weren’t looking in the right place. You were looking for a foreign contaminant, when you should have been looking at the NT-4 itself.”

  “But you just said NT-4 wasn’t the cause.”

  “It wasn’t. The reason Zac was able to do what he did, and why it took you and your team three months to get his levels down, is because Sergeant Murphy has begun to produce a natural form of NT-4.”

  Now the room did explode in a cacophony of questions and protests, with the most prominent words heard above the din being how and why. Cross didn’t attempt to calm the outbursts, instead revealing in the wake of his nuclear statement.

  It was Zac who brought the people in the room back to their senses.

  “Bullshit!” he yelled out, adding ‘sir’ a moment later just to keep things copasetic. “How does a body start producing something it never has before? It takes millions of years of evolution to change a system. It doesn’t happen in just a few years.”

  “I beg to differ with you, sergeant, but the accepted consensus is that evolution is not a straight-line affair, but rather moves in fits and starts as the need arises. Darwin showed how over a relative few generations, the shape of bird’s beaks could change, and claws become webbed. For a long time, humanity has lived within a fairly stable environment, so the need for radical change hasn’t been necessary—”

  “Excuse me, colonel,” General McCabe interrupted. “I don’t think we need a biology lesson at this point. Could we concentrate on Sergeant Murphy? Your claim is startling. I’m going to need some proof of what you say.”

  Cross lifted his hands toward Zac. “There it is, general. After ninety days without a boost, Sergeant Murphy is still alive.”

  “He had an abundance of NT-4 still in his system long after the Run,” Arnie Patel countered. “It allowed his system to survive the stresses longer than normal.”

  “Have you checked his residual recently?” Cross asked.

  Patel looked defeated. “It’s at eighteen percent.”

  Another murmur spread throughout the room. Even Manny looked at Zac and said, “Damn!”

  “That was as low as we could get him,” Patel said in his defense. “He showed no signs of cascading, so I decided to revive him.”

  “And there has been no appreciative cascading since,” Cross reported. “Yet we both know a REV with eighteen percent NT-4 would be well on his way to full activation. In fact, for Zac, anything over eleven percent would trigger him. So why has he not?”

  “Is this just a theory of yours, doctor, so you can explain something you don’t understand?” asked General McCabe.

  “No sir. During the trip out here, we were able to isolate the hormone and map—at least partially—the process involved. But rest assured, general, Zac’s body is doing what I say.”

  Cross leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on the table. “At this point, however, I need to clarify a few points. First: Zac is not producing NT-4, but rather something close to it. His body has somehow determined the proper combination of hormones, proteins and other ingredients to mimic the effects of the drug. And it does blend rather nicely with the synthetic, making it extremely difficult to detect.”

  “So why isn’t he going berserk?” asked Captain Keller.

  Zac looked at his squad leader and frowned. He didn’t like the way they were talking about him as if he wasn’t there, especially when using words like berserk.

  “That’s something we need to find out,” said Cross. “It’s evident that the natural form of NT-4 doesn’t enhance the synthetic, but somehow controls it.”

  “Dilutes it?” Patel asked.

  “Not necessarily. If that were the case I don’t think Sergeant Murphy would have activated the last time. And even after all this time, he is still retaining a residual amount of the synthetic.”

  “Assuming what you say is true,” began General McCabe, obviously still not sold on the concept, “what does this mean for the viability of the REV program?”

  “I’m not sure, general. You have to understand it was only about forty days ago that I even began to suspect some outside influence was affecting the NT-4 in Zac’s system. There is still a lot of research to do.”

  “And what does this mean for me?” Zac asked. His mind was in turmoil, as was his future. “Am I out of the program…out of the Marines?”

  “I can’t say, sergeant. With this new development, we have no idea what it will take to activate you, or if it’s even possible. And if so, then how much Twilight do we administer to coun
ter the effects? In addition, do you retain control during a Run—”

  “Which would be extremely dangerous,” said Col. Diamond, speaking for the first time.

  “Excuse me, sir?” said Zac.

  All eyes turned to the intelligence officer. The grim faces of the senior officers in the room told Zac that Diamond was about to voice what they were all thinking.

  “Sergeant, do you have any idea how powerful you are when activated?”

  Zac gnashed his teeth. Off course he did. He’d been a REV for fifteen fucking years. “Yeah, I’m pretty badass.”

  The officer glared back at Zac. “That you are. But you also have to admit you’ve never actually felt yourself being activated. When you cascade, you lose all sense of physical awareness. Sure, your mind records the images of the Run, but your memory doesn’t recall how it feels. It’s estimated you gain ten times the strength of a normal Marine, along with all other related body functions. That’s incredible.”

  “Yes it is…sir.”

  “You also are obedient, to a degree.”

  Zac’s temper flared. He didn’t know if the officer was intentionally trying to provoke him, but he was.

  Diamond continued: “The way it works now is we point you in a direction and you more-or-less obey. Now imagine you arbitrarily decide to turn around and go back the way you came…because you made the decision to do so. You’d run smack dab into your own troops. What would you do then?”

  “Since I made the decision to turn around, I would probable decide not to kill my fellow Marines.”

  “Can you say that for certain, sergeant? If not, then what are we supposed to do with you?”

  “We’re talking in hypotheticals here,” Arnie Patel said, trying to put the conversation in perspective.

  “Doctor Patel is correct,” said David Cross. “That’s why we need to run some test…experiments, really.”

  “Experiments?”

  “Yes, sergeant. We need to study the effects of this natural version of NT-4 in combination with the synthetic. We need to test dosages and then counters to the dosage. The amount you produce naturally is relatively low compared to a full combat dose, but it’s omnipresent. We also need to know if we can control its production, possibly with medication. I hope you realize what a significant event this is. If we find that continued use of NT-4 over extended periods can create this condition in others, then we need to plan for it.”

  The doctor’s statement was a more subtle reiteration of what Diamond just said: We can’t have a bunch of people making Rev on their own. That would be far too dangerous…and unpredictable.

  “Zac, do we have your permission to run the tests?”

  Zac was a Marine; he knew they didn’t need his permission to do the testing, but it would be better if he volunteered. He firmed his resolve. He was a Marine first and foremost, and he wanted to stay one. If finding the answers—and possibly a cure—for his condition would make that possible, he wouldn’t stand in the way.

  “Of course, sir, I’m at your disposal.” He regretted the last word in the sentence. If it came down to it, the Corps wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of him if need be.

  Dr. Cross has reported an increasing residual in subjects with six or more activations. This coincides with the increase in metabolism observable in all longer-term participants. I am ready to begin trials on NT-3b. This appears to be a more stable form of the drug. We shall see.

  Journal Entry, Feb. 17, 2070, Dr. Clifford Slater

  7

  The first of the tests was scheduled for oh-ten hundred the next morning. Before leaving the meeting in the wardroom, Dr. Cross gave Zac a powerful, fast-acting laxative and a sleeping pill. The laxative worked; the sleeping pill didn’t.

  When he arrived in MedLab the next morning, the place was packed with lab coats, khakis and armed guards. It seemed everyone wanted to be witness to the Zac Murphy Show. Even the ship’s captain was present. In the year he’d been aboard the Olympus, Zac only seen the man a dozen times before. Now he stood on the other side of the viewing window next to General McCabe. From his expression, Zac got the impression he was there to see just how dangerous Zac was to his ship and crew. He didn’t fault the man for his concern.

  Zac was stripped to the waist and placed in a reinforced hospital bed. He was familiar with the set up. When not scheduled for a Run, REVs were required to get periodic maintenance boosts of NT-4 to sustain their residual levels. They would be strapped into a bed like this and fired up with a combat dose of the drug. But rather than letting the ten-to-twelve minute cascading period run, Twilight would be administered immediately. Since it happened so fast, and without the accompanying injuries sustained during a Run, the REV would be released from the hospital within a couple of days, with no lasting effects, except for a tiny boost in residual.

  But now Zac bit his bottom lip when the technicians closed the restraints over his arms and legs, and the IV’s were plugged into his veins. They assured him all the precautions were for his protection, yet everyone left the room and electronically locked the door behind them.

  Through the large observation window, Zac saw the officers and attendants hover over the shoulders of the medical team seated at a console in the control room. Armed guards were stationed in the foyer outside Zac’s room. He counted four armed with CQC-barreled M-93s. During maintenance sessions, one was always on station—just in case—yet armed with tranq darts, not deadly assault weapons.

  Zac didn’t know exactly what was about to happen, but he suspected the doctors first needed to test his activation level of NT-4 in conjunction with his natural Rev. He couldn’t remember the last time a REV was brought to full activation within a closed environment…and left that way. It would be like setting off a bomb.

  He was also hoping they had plenty of Twilight around in case his body cascaded off the edge. And what about the passage of time? Would it be another three months before he awoke again…if ever? In fact, the doctors may just play with his body until it burned out, while they gained valuable insight into this new wrinkle in the REV Program?

  In a very real sense, Zac felt like he was sitting in an electric chair, breathing his last conscious breath.

  “Okay, Zac, we’re going to start in a few seconds,” said Arnie Patel through the intercom. “Try to relax.”

  “That’s easy for you say.”

  Arnie didn’t respond.

  Dr. Cross leaned over to the microphone. “Gunny, we’re going to introduce the NT-4 gradually, and not in a full combat boost like you’re used to.”

  Zac laughed. No one ever got used to being suddenly changed from a normal person into a crazed killing monster. That’s why the primal scream was a signature of his kind.

  Zac was shocked by the significance of that last thought: His kind. With the production of naturally-occurring Rev, was he becoming something different, something more than Human…or maybe less? Sure, the enhanced physical capacities of a REV were beyond normal. But so was the rage. When activated, he was more an animal than a man. Even if he was turning into something different could it be allowed to survive?

  Zac noticed the effects of NT-4 being introduced into his system for the first time in his life. Although under normal operations, the primal scream was the signal of the drug’s introduction, REVs never remembered the outburst. Only recordings provided evidence to them that it occurred. Although masculine bravado called for the REV to exhibit pride in the savage battle cry, inside they felt embarrassed by the loss of control it signified. With so many people watching, Zac hoped he wouldn’t experience the same thing.

  But now he began to concentrate more on the moment, worrying less about what others may think. He was experiencing something completely foreign to him. Gone was the sudden surge of strength and energy, replaced now by a strange sensation of well-being. His muscles tensed and his senses began working at a heightened level. The room became brighter, more detailed, and he could hear the conversation in the other room even
without the microphone. There was a strong odor of bleach and alcohol, and the sheet under his body felt soft and warm.

  His heart rate increased as his blood pressure approached two-hundred over one-forty. The longer he stayed on the drug, the higher it would go.

  Zac wasn’t sure how much of the dose was in his system. He could feel an incredible power in his body and clarity of mind. Even after fifteen years as a REV, this was a new experience for him. He laughed out loud. This was incredible…if annoying. He was growing restless. He wished they would get on with the test.

  “Sergeant, how do you feel? Can you talk to us?” It was Dr. Cross on the intercom.

  “I feel fine,” Zac snapped. “How far along am I?” His jaw began to involuntarily slip back and forth, grinding his teeth. But he didn’t care.

  The doctors in the control room looked at each other, confused. Cross spoke into the microphone again. “Are you saying you don’t feel anything?”

  Zac took several deep breaths to regain his composure. It seemed everything Cross said made him mad. “Yeah, I feel it. It’s just…different.”

  “In what way?”